Live! Yes! Live!

Oct 25, 2025 4:01 pm

Hello Happy Readers!

It's Live!

I'm so excited!

The TikTok influencers I have sent book boxes out to seem to have loved them so thank you for your kind words and showing off the product!

You can now get your copy and start reading!

Buy it now!

If you have forgotten the characters, here is a reminder of their friendly banter.

As promised, below is chapter 2 to follow on from last week's chapter 1

“What?” Davis scoffed, dragging me forth by my shackles and lining up in front of Murben.

Murben gestured his hand at me, beating it in the air with rapid swipes. “Long, blue hair. Gorgeous, blue eyes. Stunning beyond words.” He swatted Davis on the back of his head. “This is Angelica Stone. King Blackbone’s…” Murbenhesitated and looked at me. “What would you call your relationship?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I’m his toy.”

“Yes. Perhaps so.” He stared back at the soldier. “I’m not escorting her to him cuffed.”

“Shit!” Davis cussed, fear entering his eyes at the realisation of who I was.

Murben rested his hands on his hips. “I’m surprised she didn’t beat you up and escape. She has trained with the best and you wouldn’t land a punch on her.”

Murben glanced quizzically at me. Accusing me of…something.

I smiled playfully, looked at the carriage and then back at him. “It was nice to get a ride back. You know I hate flying.”

He scratched his chin. “I know it’s not my place to say, but you could have warned Davis, knowing the king’s temper.”

Davis absently palmed his neck. “I didn’t let her speak.” His voice was spiced with regret. “Threatened her with my dagger.”

Murben’s eyes widened in disbelief, his face flushing with a mixture of anger and incredulity. “You did what?”

I stepped forward, and although amused, I kept my voice cold and steady. “He did.” My words hung in the air between us like a verdict for a silent heartbeat.

Murben’s fury erupted. “Bloody Underworld, Davis!” His finger jabbed toward my restrained hands. “And get those cuffs off her!”

Davis tossed the keys over to Murben, standing beside me. “Here!”

Murben dodged the keys, and they landed on the gravel. “I’m not getting my hands anywhere near those. And you’d better hurry to get the cuffs off. If King Blackbone sees as much as the tiniest scratch on her skin, you’ll be happy if you walk away with only a few maimed fingers.”

The man threw himself on the ground, scrabbling for the keys, and then rushed to me, shaking like a leaf in a thunderstorm to the point I thought his wolf head cuff links would fall out, as he did his best to remove the cuffs from my wrists quickly.

“I’m so sorry, my Queen,” he stammered; fear marred his voice as if he stood face to face with his own ghost.

“Spirits no. I’m no queen.” The horrible thought stuck in my mind.

No way will I marry the enemy king and be marked for life!

No one to date knew how to remove a mate mark once it labelled the skin at the side of your neck just above the collarbone. The Spirits’ powers sealed that union for good. It was too sacred to fool around with during an undercover mission, even if it was to save our sky island from King Blackbone. Not even my brother would go so far as to force that into my undercover agent contract. Especially considering what our mother had put us through. Her twenty-eight-year long undercover act had felt so real that it had shocked me to my core five years ago when her true identity had been exposed, as her white-wing glamour had faltered, showing her black wings beneath. Harvey had been in the second year of the academy then and Mother and I had been watching Harvey and Zayd begin their navigation challenge. But instead of them starting a challenge, she had started a massacre, known since as the Battle of Bensguard.

But why am I so angry at hearing Davis call me his queen?

Was I getting too attached to King Blackbone? If I was, I’d have to abort my mission and that meant I would never see him again. A venom-stinging pain entered my heart. It wasn’t as if I had a life back at the Bensguard Outpost amongst white-wings. After everyone found out my mother was a traitor, they had treated me and my brother as such, too, and we had to work twice as hard as the other soldiers to prove our loyalty.

With both a pair of black wings and white wings, I was fated to do this gig.

So do your job and fucking focus!

I rubbed my sore wrists as soon as Davis removed the sharp irons.

Please, let there be no scratches visible to the king’s eye.

But unfortunately, the cuffs had left a faint reddish mark that wouldn’t fool anyone.

Murben frowned as he saw the marks, too. We both knew what it meant for poor Davis.

Spirits! I felt ridden with guilt. But I’d like to see them try to be a damned spy, tasked with mapping the Black Wing Territory so that the white-wings could disarm all their military operations, steal the Black Blade, kill the king, and at the same time, not harm an innocent in the process.

Murben faced me, reflexively resting his hand on the hilt of his sword that hung from his belt. “So, Miss Stone, why were you ‘visiting’ the military base, anyway?”

I cleared my throat. “You know that blade collection I brag about and how much I love swords?”

“Yes. The one you speak of, which I have never seen because you refuse to let me in to secure your apartment, even when King Blackbone has ordered me to.”

“Yeah, that one. Well, it doesn’t have the Black Blade, does it?” I pointed for Davis’s belt where it hung.

With the Black Blade I could kill a soul, and the magic the person possessed, sending them to the Underworld never to walk this world again, so I could understand why he was nervous about me having my eyes on it. The ‘visit’ had also given me the opportunity to inspect the facility. But I wasn’t sure the blade collection story was a believable enough reason to appease Murben’s suspicions.

“I wonder where you draw the line of your mischief, Miss Stone. If you aren’t in trouble for spying on the top-secret military base, you could still get severely punished for stealing the only blade that could destroy the Spirit Heart.”

Well fucking aware! But I’ll rather not draw any lines and die undercover than going back home and having to enrol in the academy.

“Little old me? You can’t believe I would be so foolish as to enter the Spirits’ Trek, let alone hike to the end, which few have survived, purely to stab the heart?”

The Bensguard Outpost had a Special Missions Unit specifically for this purpose; to train cadets for three years in the academy and send one team of six members each year after graduation. No one had completed the trek, touched the heart and received three magical powers since my father had done it twenty-five years ago.

“I have no doubt you could do it if you put your mind to it. Your stubbornness would kill the tenacity of any demon. But as long as you don’t stab the king’s heart, your faith isn’t in my hands. It’s in the hands of the king’s mercy.”

Oh, but that is no fun, Murben. Stabbing the king is in my job description!

Although, I had been pushing the king’s mercy too far lately.

“Hey guys,” I called out casually. “Let’s forget about today and go our separate ways. There is no need for anyone to get hurt.”

But in the next moment, the courtyard swarmed with royal guards, leaving Murben with no control over the situation, and I didn’t have the time to think of a foolproof alibi.

Commander Daffron was a striking figure of quiet strength. Standing over two metres tall, with broad shoulders and a lean frame, his every movement was that of someone who was as familiar with war as the back of his hand. His raven-black hair contrasted with his pale complexion and ended just above his strong jawline. His deep amber eyes looked me over, frowning at the sight of the mud on my soaked clothes. When he spoke, his voice was as steady as the calm confidence he exuded. “Miss Stone. Care to explain all this?”

His tone boded for no jokes and his wide stance emphasised that he wasn’t about to be swayed by nonsense.

“Sergeant Davis has arrested me, so I guess I have the right to remain silent until I speak with the king.”

It was the only way I could help Davis, hindering any gossip from spreading that would make it worse for him if the royal guards knew the full story.

Commander Daffron’s frown deepened as he scrutinised me, a vein of effort to remain civil etched on his forehead, so I quickly pushed out my elbow in Davis’s direction. “Shall we?”

Davis’s pale skin bordered the same pink as my pet pig Flora and his grip on my arm was so slack I couldn’t feel his touch.

“I’ll escort them,” Murben told Commander Daffron.

Commander Daffron didn’t argue but still signalled for two of his guards to follow us. “The king is in the Counsel Chamber.”

We walked down the corridor that was dimly lit by the torches in the sconces on the walls, the only sound being my rubber-soled boots squeaking on the stone floor. The other guards walked soundlessly, wearing leather soled military boots and black cotton uniforms with dark-blue details, with one or other medals sewn to their chest if they’d earned them.

The stone walls shielded by thick shadows came to an end and we crossed an external landing before we reached the Counsel Chamber’s crimson double doors. I inhaled a full breath before I put a palm on each side and pushed them wide open, walking in first.

I choked for a second, seeing the regal form of the young king of only twenty-six years of age in his serene, thoughtful state behind the desk.

I liked him in this mood.

But I was about to ruin it.

“Ben!” I called out to get Benjamin’s attention away from his enormous desk full of papers he burdened himself with instead of letting his advisors handle them.

His complexion had turned paler than the last time I saw him, probably from having spent too much time in this office and too long in the shadows.

Despite the enormous desk, his frame looked like a mountain behind it; his biceps as beefy as a bull’s leg, his neck too chunky for a sword to hack through in one go. When his gorgeous ruby eyes looked up at me, my body reacted with the same crazy attraction as when I’d first laid eyes on him at the ball in this very castle nearly two years ago.

Idiot! He’s a murderer and a tyrant! I rebuked myself.

His onyx hair lay in waves around his face and neck, tousled like he had just rolled out of bed, but I knew it was from enduring a hard day. Yet somehow it, he, looked perfect. I suppressed the rebellious fluttering in my stomach and batted my eyelashes at him apologetically. “I went to a restricted area. Stole a blade. Got caught. Here for my prosecution. What is your verdict?”

The black-wing king’s face reddened to the colour of his eyes with anger, but he stayed silent as he inspected the guards tailing me.

“Miss Stone,” he said, his dark hair bouncing as he rose from his seat, wild and untamed like him.

Slowly, with prowling steps, he rounded the desk. He flexed out his enormous black wings, folding their edges protectively around his arms that rested at his sides, as if to restrain them from strangling anyone.

I swallowed hard. He was massive, even taller than Murben; his body blocking out almost all natural light from the window behind the desk. Smoke, like the essence of death, followed him and faded at his edges as he moved. My nerves pricked, kicking alive my heart as it began pounding hard in my chest. His size and his authoritative presence made him almost impossible to ignore even if we had been in a large crowd but lethally worse when the confined room boxed me in between four walls, five guards and a king.

He used my first name or surname depending on how pleased he was with me; Angelica was the sweet purr he uttered when he admired me. Stone, he used when he thought I had a heart that was hard to crack. He pulled his fingers through his hair, clearly garnering patience before he spoke.

“How do you plead to these charges?”

I didn’t hesitate, nor sugar-coat it. It would do me no good. “Guilty for the Underworld!”

There was no point denying it. The guiltier I seemed, the less pain Sergeant Davis would have to suffer. That was the best outcome I could achieve right now.

Ben grunted. My heart heated uncomfortably. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the desk, looking at me as if not knowing what to do with me.

He observed me with an intense stare, the same way a cat watched a rat before it was about to pounce, but I could never be sure when I should draw my daggers in defence. The stare lowered to size me up, but stopped abruptly, fixed on my wrists.

Dammit.

“Come to me,” he called softly. It was like a sensual lure that drew me to him. He could be calling out my damned death sentence and I could still not turn away from him. A damn curse he is!

I made my way across the room with the confidence of someone who had never doubted herself a day in her life but realised my manicured fingers were trembling ever so slightly as I tucked a blue strand behind my ear. The gap between us vanished and I found myself cocooned by his wings inside his personal space. I felt like a tiny soon-to-be-eaten fly.

“King Blackbone, let’s talk about this in private.”

He didn’t answer, going straight for my wrist, lifting it up with the calloused hands of a man who had worked hard his entire life, and pushed up the fabric of my black jumpsuit.

“What’s this? This is new.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I squeezed through barbed wire, pressed myself along concrete walls and crawled through a vent. It could have happened at any point.”

He gave a low grunt; a signature grunt I had never got used to, like an unpleasant hiccup rocking your chest. He brought up my other wrist and placed the fresh red lines side by side. “Looks like cuff marks to me.” He looked over my shoulder. “Don’t these look like cuff marks to you, Murben?”

Dammit.

Murben would never lie to his king, and he must have already disappointed Ben this week if he was serving at the military base instead of guarding his back.

Murben, standing in a military stance a distance behind me, craned his head, pretending to inspect it. It was futile though, as he knew the truth. “They do look like such.”

I glanced at Davis, whose skin had taken on a green tint, ready to faint.

I quickly nestled my arms around Ben’s neck and his wings seemed to reflexively close around me. It had taken me two years of balls, hunts and tournaments to get this far, and it was only last week that he had invited me to court to mingle amongst the nobles. I was still very much his toy, but I had privileges. I hoped they were enough now.

“Let’s forget about this occasion.” I pressed myself between his legs and gently ground myself at his groin, hoping no one else in the room would see it. I knew King Blackbone didn’t appreciate public displays of affection, and we weren’t at that level in our relationship where me grinding against him was appropriate.

We locked eye-contact, his red globes moving inside their sockets, seeming to ponder his next move. He frowned as he looked down at me; grinding his teeth, as if he had a hard time rejecting my offer. My heart burned with that fuzzy feeling again, knowing he accepted me in his own emotionally-deprived way.

Clearly having made up his mind, he pried my arms off him. “Who did this to Miss Stone?” he asked Murben.

I spun around to watch Davis’s face. His knees buckled and hit the floor. He interlinked his fingers and held his praying hands up in front of him. “My king, I didn’t know who she was. I swear it. I thought I was apprehending a thief stealing the Black Blade.” He tugged the Black Blade out of his belt and tossed it in front of the king’s feet. “I removed the cuffs as soon as I learned her identity. You have my sincerest apologies.”

Ben grunted darkly this time. He approached the shivering man, who was kneeling on the floor; Ben’s two metre frame towering over him. “A king is always under threat from those not content with his rule, and so is his lady friend, especially one as adventurous as Miss Stone. I don’t want ignorance of her identity to be an excuse to harm her.” Ben watched the guard in silence for a while. “Do you know how to paint, Sergeant?”

“Paint?” He cocked his head up, his shiny, grey eyes held a spark of confusion. “Not as well as I’d wish, my king.”

Ben grunted in response. “Sever the thumb that was used to cuff Miss Stone, so that you can always remember its treachery in harming her. Paint her picture with your blood on a parchment and display it at the proclamation notice board outside the castle gates. If anyone else claims not to recognise her face, I’ll execute you both, so make it your best resemblance of her.”

Spirits! Execution for reddening my skin! I have committed far worse crimes, and he never punishes me. But one day my luck will run out.

Guilt hammered my chest more than fear did, as I pitied Davis. I wished I could put him in protective custody with the white-wings, but I couldn’t risk revealing my double identity to the king.

Davis’s eyes swam in their sockets before he fainted. Murben lifted him up onto his shoulder and headed for the door.

“And Murben,” Ben called. “You’re back on bodyguard duty. After I have had a word with Miss Stone, escort her to her apartment and guard her door until tomorrow. I want no more drama tonight. I have already had enough for one day, what with throwing Duke Hartmore out of the room earlier.”

“Understood.” Murben saluted and left.

I was alone with the black-wing king. I don’t know why, but somehow that soothed me. In a million years, I couldn’t believe he would harm me. But my life was a hefty price to pay if I was wrong. He retrieved the Black Blade from the floor and placed it on the desk on his way back to it. Then, he sank down to sit on the desk’s ledge again, cupping my back with both hands, and pulling me closer.

His touch sent forbidden tingles up my spine. I palmed his rock-hard chest to support my balance. More unwanted heat coursed through me. Cussing inside my mind, I focused on steadying my aroused breathing.

“Miss Stone. You have a knack for mischief. What’s it about this time? Why the Black Blade?” There was a hurt in his voice that bothered me.

To stab your arse when the time comes!

But if I confessed that, I was as good as dead. I had also truly started to doubt I could do it. The sadness I saw in his eyes pained me no end. A sadness that could derive from him having given that outcome a thought.

He can’t know that is the reason I stole it.

“It’s sharp. I wanted it for my sword collection.”

That was one truth. It was the sharpest blade in the world; throughout all the three realms, I was sure of it.

His inky essence cascaded off him and crept around us like spirits of the dead coming to bring me to the Underworld. The hair on my skin bristled with a small dose of magical voltage as the black tendrils touched me. The pulsation of darkness from his soul rubbed over me like waves hitting shore. He possessed strong power, but what magic could he wield? No one in the White Wing Territory knew.

His eyes softened as he looked at me. “You know I could get you anything you want in the world save that sword. Pick another sword, or have the blacksmith forge you a new one. Or perhaps start using a smaller dagger better suited to your tiny body. They are more effective. But don’t make more trouble for me.”

I rolled my eyes and leaned sideways over his arm, caressing the Black Blade with my fingertip, tracing the sharp edge down towards the hilt.

“But I like swords.”

My palm fitted perfectly around the shaft, and I brought it up and slowly dragged it across his wing and then his chest until I stopped it, poking its tip at his black shirt just above his heart. I hesitated. This was the hard part – to become a murderer, making my first and the most important kill of my life. My stomach knotted as I gazed at the black iron between us. I had one mission task. This was it.

The only thing I had to do was jab.

Buy it now!

Until next Saturday,

Therese